Am I on Candid Camera?

Honestly, I am very grateful that I am not plagued by MAJOR travel issues, like frequently cancelled flights, two-day layovers due to freak storms, hotel rooms with cockroaches etc, but when little blips occur on my travels, I just feel like I need to share the frustration with someone. Blog readers, you are the lucky bunch. (Along with anyone else who will listen… which lately has included many of my co-workers as well as complete strangers on airplanes.) ANYWAY.

A few weeks ago, I dropped off my rental car at the San Jose airport, on my way to catch a flight down south. The front bumper of the car was slightly damaged when I picked it up a few days earlier, but because I have that “Preferred” service (where my paperwork is already in the car, ready to go, when I arrive), I assumed (erroneously as it turns out) that BEFORE they put the paperwork in the car, they would have done a walk-around and noted any prior damage. (Or better yet, they wouldn’t give a PREFERRED customer a damaged car to begin with.)

Well, I guess they didn’t because when I dropped the car off, the receiving attendant in the lot really gave me the gears and sent me inside to fill out an “accident report” – quite ironic since THERE WAS NO ACCIDENT. (Which I tried to explain to him, but to no avail.)

I was already tight on time and when I went into the office to ask about the paperwork I needed to complete, the single Avis agent on duty was already helping another customer. With a nervous glance at my watch, I shifted from foot to foot as I waited. I could overhear the gentleman at the counter, asking EVERY conceivable question possible to the agent:

“Now, what exactly does this insurance cover?”

“Now, what precisely does this line in the contract mean?”

“Now, would it be better for me to get insurance X or insurance Y or both?”

“Now, just how does the gas option work again?”

“And what does the insurance cover again?”

“How much is the deductible again?”

“So, if I drive into a building, I’m covered?”

“Now, on this map, how do I get to Place XYZ?”

“And how do I get back to the San Jose airport 10 days from now when I will be leaving?”

It was at this point where I lost my patience and was forced to interrupt (and had to use all my willpower not to grab the man’s map and toss it outside in an attempt to make him go fetch it) and said “I’m really sorry, but I am running late for a flight and REALLY need to fill out an accident report… even though there has been no accident.”

This snapped both Mr. Questions and the Avis agent out of their Pedro-and-Napoleon style dialogue and thankfully, I was able to complete the paperwork relatively quickly (including a succinct “There was no accident” statement in the “notes” section).

I sprinted out of the Avis building towards the waiting shuttle bus at the curb, thankful that there was already a shuttle waiting. As I hurried towards the bus, the driver stared right at me and while making direct eye contact the entire time, leaned over and pulled the giant lever that closes the bus doors… and drove away.

Either I had become temporarily invisible (I didn't even KNOW that I owned an Invisibility Cloak) or I looked like his ex-girlfriend... who cheated on him.

Not Exactly a "Renaissance" in Business Travel

I'm in Columbus, Ohio right now. (Stop wrinkling your noses -- I'm actually here for a conference which, at the end of Day 1, has already proven to be worth the price of admission.)

Thank goodness the conference has been good because I'm not having the best of luck with my accommodations. I'm staying at the Renaissance Hotel downtown and when I got in (quite late) last night, I ordered a bowl of soup since I hadn't eaten all day. The room service attendant told me it would be about 45 minutes, which in most hotels actually means it will be there in about 30 minutes. I placed my order just before 11 pm.

I caught up on some work and emails and before I knew it, it was midnight already... and still, no room service. I called them to check on my order and they proceeded to put me on hold for over 5 minutes. When the attendant came back on the line, he said "your order will be up shortly!" Savvy business traveler that I am, I didn't let him off the hook that easily. "What does that mean?", I asked. "Five minutes? 30 minutes?" He assured me 5 minutes, maybe 10 at the most.

By this time, I'd completed my work and I just wanted to put my pajamas on and crawl into bed. At 12:20, my soup had still not arrived and I called room service again. I explained the whole situation including the fact that at this point, I have now been waiting for this elusive bowl of soup for nearly and hour and a half. (An hour and a half!! For a bowl of soup! ... heck, I would have even gone downstairs to pick it up myself!)

I politely explained to the person on the other end of the phone that this was not acceptable customer service and that they should simply cancel my order now because I needed to go to bed since my alarm would be going off in less than 6 hours. She had clearly been well-coached in all the annoying, placating "customer service" phrases like "I understand" and "I can see how this must be frustrating for you". You know what, if you could REALLY see how frustrating this was, YOU would bring me my soup yourself.

And then, the most ironic thing.... at 7:15 this morning, there is a knock on my door and a cheery "room service!" called out from the hallway... but I didn't even ORDER breakfast.

Cute

Him: "Um, excuse me, do you know what gate the flight to Miami is flying out of?"

Her: (momentarily confused because she is not, in fact, wearing an American Airlines uniform and standing behind a gate counter.) "No..... but there is a display screen right behind you with all the gates listed for departing flights."

Him: (smiling, maybe a bit sheepishly) "Ok, great -- thanks! Sorry to have bothered you!"

Her: (to herself "No, you're not.")

(15 minutes or so pass and she's once again absorbed in the book she brought along)

Him: "I found the Miami gate -- it's just over there."

Her: (again confused, but infinitely polite) "Oh good, that's great -- well... have a good flight!"

Him: "Thanks, you too! Um.... also, here's my card.... my name's Paul."

Her: (completely thrown now) "Ah.... um.... nice to meet you Paul."

He smiles again, turns to go back to his gate and she just slides the card between the pages of her book as she continues to read. Another 15 minutes or so pass and as she closes her book, the card falls out and to the floor, landing on its face. For the first time, she notices handwriting on the back. She picks it up to take a closer look: "I think you're really cute -- call me."

It's like being back in Grade 6, passing notes in class .... "I think you're cute. Do you think I'm cute? Mark either the 'yes' or 'no' box."

Now, really. Does this REALLY work??

Happy Mother's Day!

A big, warm Happy Mother's Day to all you moms out there! Especially to my own Mom who has always been there for me and who inspires me with her love for her family and all that she does. (And thanks, Dad, for making Mom breakfast this morning!)

Enjoy the day, moms!

Random Travel Moments

Over the past couple of weeks, I've been on an even greater number of flights than usual (between April 22 and May 10, I was on 10 flights, visiting six different cities/areas) and as a result, I have a small collection of random travel moments to share:

-- On my trip to Vancouver, I missed my connections in BOTH directions, resulting in MUCH more quality time at SFO than I really needed.

-- On the way up to Vancouver, I *just* missed my connection.... it was so close, in fact, that after I sprinted from my arriving gate to my connecting gate (carry-on rollerboard in tow -- quite a scene), the plane was still sitting at the gate, but the doors had been closed. Argh!!! Picture me up against the window, banging on the glass, "Let me on!!!"

-- On the way back from Vancouver, the little girl across the aisle threw up on our approach to land.... and in that resilient way of a five-year old, once she relieved her stomach of its contents, she was immediately 100% and ready to go again.

-- Stuck in the very last row on one flight, I overhear the flight attendants talking about how there was once a dead body discovered in one of the restrooms. I guess one of the passengers had expired in flight and was not discovered until after landing. Aero urban legend or the truth?

-- Making a last minute decision to carry on my bags, I actually made it through security with all kinds of liquid toiletries in my suitcase (and not in a 1-quart clear plastic bag) and was not even questioned by security. I didn't even realize it until I was actually on the plane. Flying to Orange County yesterday, I accidentally made it through security with nearly a full water bottle in my carry on. Oops.

The Big Bag Theory

New York women love their bags. Well, I guess women anywhere aren’t really THAT different, but in New York, having a great “it” bag is an overt symbol that you truly have a place among the fashionably elite. (Or that you have a credit card with a generous limit.)

I know women who’ve spent more than a month’s rent on a new bag. “It’s an investment”, my friends confidently say as they recount stories of trying to explain this investment to perplexed (and sometimes angry) boyfriends and husbands. Many of them still speak reverently about their first real “it” bag, purchased on a shoe string while at their first jobs when they should have been paying rent and buying food. Somehow, brand names like Hermes, Chloe and Fendi have completely scrambled Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Since when does a fashionable sack of leather eclipse food and shelter?

New York bags also tend to be on the bigger side because you literally need to carry your life around with you in the city… laptop computer, water bottle, necessary files for your next meeting, wallet, phone, blackberry, a good book or newspaper for passing the time on the subway or bus, an umbrella (because it could begin raining at any given moment), a change of shoes for once you get to the office, a sushi chef who will whip you up a healthy lunch while you’re on the go… Suddenly those TV commercials where a woman pulls a pharmacist out of her bag don’t seem that far-fetched.

But even though New York women heave around giant carry-alls by day, most are smart and savvy enough to replace them with small clutches for evening activities or for any activities where you find yourself in a small crowded space. In such spaces, (like bars and clubs), there’s an inherent understanding that you don’t bring your big bag, or if you do, you stash it in a corner or under the table so that it’s out of everybody’s way. And you CERTAINLY don’t push your way through crowds, banging everyone in your path with the Cocker Spaniel-sized leather duffel slung over your shoulder.

Ok, well maybe SOME women do, and for those women, I have a theory that continues to ring true time and time again. It’s called the Big Bag Theory and it simply states that the nasty public attitude of a woman is directly proportionate to the size of the bag she carries in a crowded venue and inversely proportionate to how much space she should be taking up as a single individual in that crowded venue. (There’s a multiplier effect if she is in the company of a cocky, arrogant, “Mine’s bigger than yours” man.)

Simply put, any woman who shows up at The Fillmore, an iconic New York live music venue, carrying not only a giant shoulder bag, but unapologetically forcing her way through the crowds, using said bag as something approaching a weapon, not just a convenient place to stash some cash and a tube of lipstick, illustrates the Big Bag Theory perfectly. The bigger the bag, the bigger the, um, well… bag.

I could tell the moment I saw Princess Self-Centered with her straw-like, shoulder-length, over-processed blonde hair that she was going to be trouble. She would swing around, hitting everyone in her orbit with her giant black bag (and not to be a bag snob or anything, but it wasn’t even a particularly great bag – if you’re going to repeatedly bump into me, at least bump into me with Chanel or something). She kept hitting Special K, me and a number of other people with her bag and then as she became progressively more aggressive about her quest to obtain a better place to stand to watch the band (um, try getting to the venue EARLY like the rest of us), she literally started throwing elbows. No joke, she wound up and drove an elbow cleanly and decisively into the arm of the woman standing in front of us. At this point, Prince Arrogance (the oh-so deserving husband) began talking trash to the people that Princess was harassing and this was the point at which I slithered out through the crowd (clutching my tiny bag, thank you very much) to summon a security guard and within minutes, we had the Royal Couple ousted completely. A coup of the people.

Hopefully, it’s a LONG time before I run into that kind of purse-onality again.

PS. The current bid for the Birkin Bag in the photo was $21,499 at the time of this post (on Portero.com).